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“It’s Friday,” came the singsong voice down the phone as soon as Peter answered the call that had started ringing as soon as the bell had signalled the end of the school day.
“Wow, F.R.I.D.A.Y., Mr. Stark has finally changed your voice, congrats.” Peter said brightly as he waved goodbye to Ned and MJ and made his way to the back doors out of the school that he had never seen anyone else use.
“Hey, you little sh- wait, what do you mean finally?” Mr. Stark asked. “What’s wrong with her voice?”
Peter snickered at the whine in his voice that always appeared whenever someone made fun of his precious AIs, “nothing, anyways you were saying… it’s Friday?”
He took the bait and dropped the subject thankfully.
“Yes, right, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” Mr. Stark paused for a second, as though he wanted Peter to interject with a weird comment or quip, he decided to annoy his mentor by not doing so, after all Mr. Stark loved to argue back and forth and Peter loved to irritate, “it’s Friday.”
“Hey, have you told Pepper that you can tell the days of the week? I think she’d be really proud of your progress,” Peter said quietly as he glanced all around before scaling the fence that would allow him to leave the school grounds, “maybe next week we’ll have you telling the time.”
“I miss the days when you were pissing your pants at the thought of speaking to me,” Mr. Stark said, “it was nice. Quiet. Your hero worship really helped to feed my ego, now you’re just an angsty ball of attitude.”
“Pepper said you shouldn't say bad words around me.” Peter informed him as he dropped down onto the pavement on the other side of the fence.
“I knew introducing you two was a mistake,” Mr. Stark muttered, “believe me Kid, if all you ever hear me say is ‘pissing’, then you and my health are safe.”
“Your health?”
“Do you think I would survive Pepper’s wrath?” Mr. Stark asked. “Like, seriously, you’ve met her right?”
“She likes you; she wouldn't harm you.” Peter was fairly sure of that.
“Wow, just say it, you’re vanilla.”
“What?”
“Nothing, it’s uh, inappropriate.” Mr. Stark mumbled.
The call disconnected as a car pulled up alongside Peter, he heard the faint whirring of a window winding down.
“You know, if you’re gonna make me wait a few streets away, you could show some oomph, maybe even jog a little.” Mr. Stark said through the open window as he peered over his glasses at Peter.
“Mr. Stark,” he whined, “the whole point of meeting me a few streets away was to meet me a few streets away, not to get bored and drive alongside my school looking for me.”
“We’re behind the school.”
“That doesn't make you sound less creepy, y’know.” Peter informed him as he walked around the back of the ostentatious Audi and waited for the familiar clicking that indicated Mr. Stark had popped the trunk. He threw his backpack in before making his way around to the passenger side.
“I’m not creepy.” Mr. Stark muttered. “You’re a brat.”
“Uh huh,” Peter agreed.
“So, brat, what’s the plan today?” Mr. Stark asked. “Your curfew isn’t until midnight, so what shenanigans are we going to get into? A party? A rave? A riot?”
“Mr. Stark, you’re showing your age again,” Peter said, “no, my computer mouse keeps sticking, so I thought we’d replace it.”
“Shopping it is!” Tony declared and as soon as Peter’s seatbelt clicked in place, Mr. Stark pressed his foot onto the accelerator, causing the engine to purr as the car leapt into action.
“Um, Mr. Stark, I didn’t mean uh, shopping.” Peter admitted quietly.
“No? Where do you expect to find a mouse then?” Mr. Stark asked.
“We’re going to get a second hand one, hopefully, it really just depends if anyone has thrown one away recently,” Peter admitted, “it’s not always a sure thing, sometimes it can take a few months to find the thing I need.”
“Wait… you’re taking me dumpster diving?” Mr. Stark asked him, raising a perfectly sculpted brow.
“Well, really, you’re taking me dumpster diving.” Peter corrected.
“Kid, you know I’m a billionaire, right?” Mr. Stark asked him.
“Yeah,” Peter said slowly, a small furrow forming between his brows as he wondered why Mr. Stark had changed the subject to that, “why?”
“Pete, if you need a new mouse, just ask me.”
“Oh,” Peter mumbled, realising what Mr. Stark was implying, “oh no, Sir, please, you can’t do that for me.”
“Hey, hey, hey, calm down Underoos, and what did we say about calling me Sir?” Mr. Stark asked. “You know it makes me feel old.”
“Uh, I hate to break it to you, but you are old.” Peter said with a smirk.
“Brat.” Mr. Stark muttered with a fondness that still felt weird. “Now, seriously Kid, if you ever need anything and you can’t afford-”
“It’s not the money,” Peter interrupted quickly, “I mean not now. In the beginning it was, after Ben died, we had to adjust to the single income and it was a little rough at first, but now if I need something, I know I can ask May.”
“So why keep dumpster diving now?”
“It’s fun,” Peter said with a grin that was instantly returned.
“Fun.” Mr. Stark repeated. “Alright, you win, let’s go dumpster diving. You know, I actually did this once in college?”
“You did?” Peter asked in shock.
“I mean, if you ask Rhodey he’d tell you a different story, but don’t ask him because he’s a lying liar.” Mr. Stark said quickly, making Peter entirely sure that he needed to meet Colonel Rhodes and ask him how exactly they had ended up dumpster diving back in the day.
“What would he tell me?” Peter asked.
“Nice try, but no, all you need to know was that I didn't fall in and I was a pro at it.” Mr. Stark said with a smirk.
“Sure you were,” Peter said, rolling his eyes, “something tells me you’re not telling the truth, but since Colonel Rhodes isn't here, I won’t find out what really happened.”
“I can’t believe you would think I’m lying,” Mr. Stark said, removing a hand from the steering wheel and pressing it to his chest in mock hurt, “me. Why would I lie?”
“Why wouldn't you?”
“Touché.” He muttered. “Now come on, where’s the prime dumpster diving location in New York? Oh, how about we head to fifth avenue?”
“No way, I don’t go on fifth,” Peter said shaking his head, “besides, to find what I need we’re best to hit up the alleys in Queens.”
“Your wish is my command,” Mr. Stark declared, “although, when my face is plastered on the tabloids because I was caught in a dumpster again, I will be blaming you.”
“Again?” Peter asked, “does that mean your last dumpster adventure is online somewhere?”
“No, it doesn’t,” Mr. Stark said quickly, “what are you doi- hey! Put your phone away, don’t you dare google anything. F.R.I. scramble the signal.”
“Hey!” Peter protested, “you can’t do that!”
“Uh, I think you’ll find that I can,” came Mr. Stark’s retort, “I’m Tony Stark and F.R.I. does whatever I tell her to.”
“Does she really?” Peter asked. “Hey, F.R.I.?”
“Hello, Underoos,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. said, her voice filtering through the car speakers, Peter shot Mr. Stark an unimpressed look, really? Even F.R.I.D.A.Y. was calling him ‘Underoos’? “How can I help you?”
“Can you search for a video with keywords: Tony Stark, dumpster, Rhodes, and then send me the links for the top ten most popular videos?” Peter asked.
“Consider it done.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. said.
“F.R.I. don’t you dare,” Mr. Stark threatened, “I will donate you to a community college and let them tear you to shreds to study your code.”
“No, you won’t, and due to your programming skills and focus on my efficiency, I have to report that the videos have already been sent.”
“You can erase them.”
“I can, but I will not,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. informed them.
“You design an AI, give it some sass in the code and before you know it, it’s in its moody teen phase and slamming the door in your face.” Mr. Stark muttered, and then he turned to face Peter. “Don’t worry, you’ll be a teen soon enough too.”
“Mr. Stark, I’m fifteen.” Peter said, it was pointless, Mr. Stark knew how old he was, he just found it fun to tease Peter, just like he found it fun to argue with F.R.I.D.A.Y. as they were both very aware that he could demand she delete the videos from Peter’s phone.
“Yes, you will be soon enough,” came the predictable reply, before he swerved the car around into an alley, “how does this one look?”
“It looks like a dumpster,” Peter said.
“Yes, but does it look like it has some hidden gems?” Mr. Stark asked.
“Mr. Stark, we won’t know until we’re in it,” Peter said, before shooting him an innocent grin, “besides, aren’t you a pro at this? Don’t you already know how to do this?”
“I’m going to install a curfew in your suit,” Mr. Stark muttered.
“I already have a curfew,” Peter complained, “that’s hardly a threat.”
“It is if Karen turns off at your curfew time,” Mr. Stark threatened, “I know you ask her to search for articles to help with your homework when you’re not out as Spider-Man.”
“It’s not cheating,” Peter said quickly, “she just finds the information and I use it to complete my assignments, she’s like… like a glorified google search.”
“First of all, offensive. Second, I never said it was cheating.” Mr. Stark said. “Turning her off would just make your life a little harder.”
“You’re a cruel man, Mr. Stark,” Peter muttered, “a really cruel and unusual man.”
“Maybe you have met Rhodey.” Mr. Stark muttered as he turned off the engine and threw his door open.
Peter followed suit, clambering out of the fancy car with the least amount of grace any human had ever had, thankfully he recovered quickly and fell into step beside Mr. Stark who had been approaching the dumpster with a cautious confidence.
“Uh, Sir-” Mr. Stark sent him a sharp glance, “sorry, sorry, I just was going to ask; should you really be dumpster diving in that suit?”
“This is one of my finest suits, Peter.” Mr. Stark said with a tired look at him.
“Yeah, I can see that,” Peter lied, “so are you really going to jump in a dumpster wearing that?”
“Of course I am.” Mr. Stark said as though that made sense, and he placed both hands on the side of the giant bin, before hauling himself up and over the side. Peter heard a disgusting squelch which he assumed meant his mentor had landed on the other side.
“Mr. Stark? Why exactly are you so eager to do this?” Peter asked as he followed suit and gripped onto the gross edge of the bin and tried to ignore the way his palms stuck to something slimy.
“Because it’s Friday.”
“Yeah, but normally you just come on a patrol with me or help me finish some school projects, this is the first time I’ve gone dumpster diving with you, and I wouldn’t have minded if you didn’t want to.” Peter said with a shrug. “Really.”
“Get in here kid, we need to talk, and if I’m doing this standing in a dumpster then so are you.” Mr. Stark said.
Peter shrugged a little, that was fair, and threw himself over the sticky side. He also landed with a disgusting squelch. He was not opening that black bag, there couldn’t be anything in there worth encountering whatever the squelch maker was.
“I sorry, Kid,” Mr. Stark said, looking uncomfortable at the vulnerable honesty he was showing Peter, “I messed up a lot with you in the beginning.”
“What? No, Mr. Stark, don’t apologise.” Peter said quickly.
“I have to. I shouldn’t have taken you to Germany with me, that fight was unfair on you and I know you were hurt, even though you told Happy you were as good as new after. I should have checked on you myself.”
“You can’t blame yourself for that,” Peter said quickly, “just ask May, I’m apparently really headstrong, if I didn’t want to go then I wouldn’t have. And I was fine, I heal really fast, there’s no need to worry about me getting hurt.”
“Kid, no, that’s not the right way to think, just because you heal faster than most people, doesn’t mean it won’t matter when you get hurt. You still experience pain, and you deserve to be looked after.”
“But, Mr. Stark, when you can do the things I can-”
“I know, Kid, I know, the bad things happen because of you,” Mr. Stark said, finishing what Peter had told him when they had first met, “except they don’t. Do you believe that a stabbing in London is my fault?”
“What? No!” Peter said vehemently.
“Is it yours?”
“No?” He replied a little less certainly.
“No.” Mr. Stark confirmed. “The only person to blame is whoever is doing the stabbing. Not you, not me, only the criminal.”
“I don’t understand your point,” Peter admitted as he dug through the bags, wrinkling his nose as he picked up on the smell of rotting food.
“My point is, just because you can do things, and you can heal quickly, doesn’t mean that it was alright for me to drag you to Germany and put you in a situation where you were fighting people who are vastly better trained than you are-“ he held up a finger at Peter’s protest, “-that wasn’t a dig at you, Underoos, you aren’t trained to the standards of the Avengers. It’s just a fact.”
“I held my own.” Peter grumbled.
“You did, you shouldn’t have had to because you should’ve been at home or school, but you really did hold your own and you have no idea how glad I am of that,” Mr. Stark said.
“But… why?” Peter asked.
“Because you’re a kid who deserves a chance at a childhood, and I’ve come to know you who you truly are now, and one may even say that I’ve become attached.” Mr. Stark admitted.
That blew Peter’s mind.
Sure, things had changed since The Vulture incident, but Peter had just assumed it was some misguided guilt about taking the suit away that Mr. Stark was trying to make up for. He assumed that after a few weeks of Friday’s together, the older man would get fed up and move on to bigger and better projects, after all jumping around rooftops and stopping bicycle thieves wasn’t Iron Man’s style.
Could it be that he wasn’t doing everything out of guilt, but rather because he wanted to?
“So…” Peter mumbled, “you came dumpster diving with me because… you wanted to?”
“It’s the only reason I do anything, I’m Tony Stark, no one can force me to do anything.”
“Oh.” Peter said quietly.
“What’s on your mind, Kiddo?”
“I just- I dunno, I kinda assumed you were just feeling bad about taking the suit away.”
“I don’t,” Mr. Stark said, “I don’t regret taking the suit, I do regret not answering your calls or placing a panic button on your phone, I regret leaving you completely defenceless, but I don’t regret taking the suit. I think that was a lesson you needed to learn. Pepper says that sometimes parenting is making the difficult decisions.”
Parenting.
“Oh,” Peter said, “so you really want to be here?”
“Here as in knee deep in trash? God no. Here as in spending time with you? Absolutely.” Mr. Stark told him. “I spend my entire week surrounded by stuffy business men in polyester suits, I look forward to Fridays because it means that my entire afternoon is spent with you, Kiddo, and then I know that you’ll drop by over the weekend so we can build things in the workshop together.”
“I thought I was a nuisance,” Peter mumbled.
“Never, well that’s a lie, you were when you switched all my coffee to decaf, but other than that, you couldn’t ever be a nuisance to me.” Mr. Stark said.
“I-” Peter faltered, his cheeks flushing as he made sure to focus on searching through the trash rather than looking at Mr. Stark, “I really like Friday afternoons with you. My Uncle – Ben – died not too long ago, and we used to build computers together when he wasn’t working, he’s the one who showed me how to rewire electronics and take apart a motherboard. I didn’t even realise how much I missed that until you started to help me build things in your lab.”
“Kid, you know I’m not trying to replace your family, right?”
“I know, May always says that family is fluid.” Peter said. “It’s not a solid line connecting people or a circle around a group of people, it’s an invisible connection that forms without asking for permission, and once it’s there no one can tell it to go away. You’re a part of our family now Mr. Stark, and believe me, May had a few choice words to say about that.”
“What were they?” Mr. Stark asked. “I need to know so I know how much I can get away with saying in front of her.”
“I don’t think it works like that.” Peter admitted.
“Drat, alright, Underoos, since we’re family I’m going to tell you the true story of my first dumpster adventure and you’re going to call me Tony rather than Mr. Stark, alright?”
“Deal.” Peter promised.
“Now, Rhodey will try to tell you that I was drunk and fell in while puking all over the place, but just remember that Rhodey is a lying liar who lies, and I will tell you the truth. So, it was about a year after we met…”
Peter smiled to himself as he listened to Tony talk. Their relationship wasn’t perfect, Peter still found himself questioning why Tony cared for him and whether he wanted to be part of the family, he still wondered if Tony only hung around for Spider-Man instead of Peter Parker. Despite the regular reassurances, Peter felt like he was waiting for Tony to realise that he wasn’t anything special, but with May’s voice echoing in his head ‘don’t forget to ask Tony if he’s coming for Thanksgiving’ he knew that they’d get there in the end. After all, they had hundreds of Fridays in their future.